Reflections of a Housewife
by cagedsparrow1
Summary: Peeta's reflections on the primroses, baking, and the family he loved and lost ."Trust me when I say this: the only thing worse than remembering was forgetting; and no amount of morphling can fix that." - Peeta Mellark  post mockingjay
1. The primroses

Reflections of a Housewife

Set-up: Peeta's point of view

A few months after the rebellion

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not the titles, not the books, not Suzanne Collins. _She 's_ the creator and owner of the whole enchilada. I'm just a fan.

The primroses. I'm not even sure what possessed me to plant them. At first, it seemed like a good idea, but I'm afraid that all I did was resurrect some painful memories for _her_. I wonder what it must've been like to _see_ everything that you've ever loved explode into a million pieces; to actually be there, yet stay suspended and helpless. I wish I were there to enclose her in my arms and tell her it was okay, and that it wasn't her fault that her sister died. I wonder what it would be like, but then I remember my nightmares. I _lose_ her. When I wake, I feel her strong breath and warm touch and everything is right in my world, because she is beside me. But that can't happen anymore in her case. Prim's gone. Forever.

Yet here I am, tending to them once more, pulling out weeds and watering the soft soil; like nursing a wound. I try to rationalize what I did, and all I could think about was my baking. Every time I'm near the oven's flames, I think of the family I once had. Its heat is familiar, reassuring yet it sears my still-delicate skin (my wounds are still recovering from the rebellion). I remember waking up at four in the morning each day with my father and my brothers, measuring flour, mixing batter, and piping icing. I was so used to this little routine of ours- it seemed like a dance. It was all an illusion to think it could last forever. I wish it were all a nightmare, that I could wake up and see them again; that I didn't really lose them and that I didn't really let them die. Even though my hopelessness sometimes overwhelms me (to tears), I still remember those times I've had with them with much fondness. I remember my dad pushing me to break my back carrying those bags of flour, and those times when I slaughtered my brothers because they were making fun of my "obsession on that squirrel girl", or my mom punishing me for not using the right color of icing. In a weird way, they were always there for me. They made me into the Peeta I am today. I couldn't have survived a second in the Games without all that strength training. I probably wouldn't have become such a perfectionist or camouflage expert without my mom's influence. I probably wouldn't have become such a great wrestler without my brothers' constant annoyance (I'd always win, by the way).

For a while it was difficult to remember their faces, with the hijacking and all. In some twisted way, the tracker jacker poison was like morphling, dulling out the memories, blotting out the pain. That's why I barely showed emotion after the bombing at District Twelve, or after the reports saying they were nowhere to be found. The poison focused all of my memories against Katniss. It was as if I materialized out of nothing and my sole purpose was to destroy this girl I barely remembered. I used to see flashes of her turning into a monster, mocking me. Hurting me. Killing me. Even though images like that were excruciating, it was probably nothing compared to what they've gone through.

But now, their faces filled my mind. These memories are precious because I think back to those days in therapy. I had to assemble facts about myself, chant mantras, draw "memory portraits" and play endless rounds of "Real or Not Real". I literally had to piece my life together. Every moment I lost became precious. That's why I think it's selfish when people try to forget the ones they used to love. It's a total paradox. I know what it's like to have that wish come true. Trust me when I say this: the only thing worse than remembering is forgetting, and no amount of morphling can fix that. That's why I held on to my baking. Even though I'd break down into sobs (when Katniss isn't around), I force myself to hold the dough my father taught me to shape, because it reminds me that I was the baker's son; that I _am_ the baker's son.

Then, I realized why I planted the primroses. Even though it's agonizing to remember that they have left, remembering those times when they were at your side is inevitable. I asked myself if it was worth wasting the good times just to get rid of the bad. It isn't. I'll just have to wait until she feels the same way, like I always do. Even if she often refuses to look at the blossoms, I'll never forget the day I first planted them. Tears filled her beautiful silver eyes, as if her little sister returned. As if the little ducky came waddling back into our lives. In many ways, Katniss and I are pretty different, but I know without a doubt in my heart that she will never forget Primrose, either. It's springtime and it's the season for the petals to bloom once again…

(The end?)

Author's note: I wrote this as sort of a challenge to myself. I wanted to justify Peeta's reaction (or rather, the lack of it) to the bombing of District Twelve. I wanted his take on the whole thing, too. Isn't it fun to experiment with P.O.V's? So anyway, do you have any thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Malicious Criticism? PLEASE share. I'm still new to this sort of thing, and feedback is something I dearly fellow Hunger Games fans have given Peeta the pet name: "housewife" because of his "feminine" interests like baking. Well, I decided to join the bandwagon, do i gave the story that title. Thank you for your time and patience in reading my novice attempt at writing. To all you readers, may the odds be _ever _in your favor. – Vicky


	2. Sedation

**Reflections of a Housewife (2): **

**Why I love sleeping pills**

**Disclaimer: **I do not claim ownership of anything. Well, except my dignity; and this fic. That's the extent of it.

**Author's note:** Oh my goodness! Thank you so much for your amazingly kind words about my previous chapter! I've decided to follow your advice, my dear readers. You've really put on the pressure, so here it is! Another Peeta-licious POV. Also, I've been trying to get "Panem Pickup Lines" to trend. They're basically pickup lines inspired by The Hunger Games. Here's one: "Is Cinna your stylist? Cuz gurl, you on FIRE!" Lol. So if you have anything better, feel free to include it in your comments or your own fics. Just make it trend! :D

The spring has begun. The primroses were in full bloom, and a bunch of the blossoms were placed in a vase, on the nightstand. Katniss had them brought inside. I smile every time she glances at them, which lets me know we have a second chance. Recovery is slow, but it's still progress. My hysterics aren't as intense, but the frequency isn't lessening as quickly as we had hoped. Katniss has been sleeping easier and the children never have trouble dozing off, but I wish I could say the same thing. It's been getting harder and harder to explain my inconsistent moods, and their mother's dark eyes. Someday, we'll have to show them the memory book and explain the story of why we have such trouble finding peace at night.

My memories are almost fully recovered. Every now and then, a moment from my past, drifts into my consciousness, a vivid yet fleeting image. I quickly sketch them for fear that I might forget. I sometimes have spells where I forget where I am, or people's names and I try not to panic. I hold on to things that I value, or something that I would find familiar. I think of it, and cling to it like a harness, or a lifesaver. Usually, that something is Katniss. So that night, I try to think of the primroses again. I try to imagine their soft petals and fragrant perfume to calm my mind. I can't. I shut my eyes tightly, to the point where it hurts, and I feel a warm, assuring touch on my cheek. I open my eyes. She's worried about me. Her eyebrows are wrinkling against one another, a telltale sign that she's upset. I smile to reassure her. She doesn't seem satisfied, as she continues to study my face. Her hand rests on mine, our bodies so close as we lay on the bed together. I kiss her lovely lips, hoping to appease her. She averts her gaze, still unsure, but lays her head on the pillow and dozes off. I do the same thing.

I try to find a position where I would feel comfortable, but I can't. My prosthetic leg makes me a little clumsier. It's strong, but not quite as sturdy as my human leg. No wonder Katniss says I'm a nightmare to hunt with. My dream drifts into how I got that leg. That was the worst of all. Not again. I can now remember my hopeless thoughts as the last days of the Game passed…

"_Find shelter, no matter what happens, hide and maybe it won't be so bad…"_

I still recall that torturous pain I felt after I got cut trying to save her. At first, I wasn't sure why I did it. Of course I loved her, but everyone at home, all the people I cared about told me to do whatever it took to save myself. But I knew that wasn't what Haymitch wanted. _"I could really use some help right now. Please, _just_ this once. Have some mercy." _My eyes looked above, and searched for the eyes of the people of Panem.I knew there were sponsors out there. But somewhere deep inside, I was sure. I wasn't chosen. I was just a tool to help _her_ survive.

I followed my own advice and hid. "_It's just like fondant and buttercream icing. Camouflage is a piece of cake."_ My wound was starting to look disgusting, to the point where looking at it was more painful than touching it. It was a million times worse than an oven burn. I wonder how gorgeous I look to everyone at home. "_Smile to the cameras. They love you!" _That's what Portia used to say. I'm not so sure if the cameras even want to be associated with me anymore. My leg is just… messed up. I covered myself with sticks, twigs, leaves and dead plants. I just stayed there. I tried to make do with what I could, eating the remains of my rations, and well, staying alive_. "A little food would be nice": _Still no response. I've eaten the last of my food and gave up hope. I began to feel weak beyond description, and my wounds were covered in bacteria-infested grime. My body was on fire, and not in a good way. What a great way to go, huh? I should've just died by getting murdered by the Careers. That would've made me look a little less like a failure like I do now.

_These images blackened and faded, and took me to a few days after that. _

I heard some rustling in the woods. "_Peeta!" _She was looking for me, after they announced that two people could actually win. It was then that I stopped hating her for what she did to me. I still kind of resented her for it. She has no idea what effect she can have on people. For the next few days, she took care of me. My doubts about her slowly drifted away. "_…you can kiss me anytime you feel like it"_ I honestly hoped she would. But through it all, I still felt hollow. Was she doing it to take advantage of the new rule? Did she expect me to recover quickly enough to join her fight? As the days went by, I began to dismiss those thoughts. But I had to be sure. Kisses for the cameras and sponsors weren't enough, even though I **seriously** enjoyed them. I wanted her to trust me a little more and to let her know about the feelings I had for her. I told her about that time in school where she sang. But inside, I was still asking myself so many had I sacrificed so much? Could I trust her?

The Capitol announced a feast. Katniss seemed bent on going. She had hope that they had the medicine to cure me. I knew I still had a duty to Haymitch to protect her, so I had to refuse. We argued until we were purple. She continued to nurse me, and she handed me some treats that were suspiciously sweet. Little did I know that I was being sedated. She had a cunning gleam in her face. Her expression tensed as I commented on the unusual flavor. Everything was black.

She tricked me. She lied to my face, and she ran off against my wishes. Why wasn't I upset? Because that was the nudge I needed. I should no longer be unsure about her. She risked her life, and was willing to look like the bad guy to save me. She was afraid I was angry for doing that, too. Why? Why would she want me to forgive her, now that I am eternally indebted to her? How could I still be mad, after she did such an unbelievable thing? She looked so cute too. Guilty about what she did, like a puppy with her tail between her hind legs. Oh look, she refuses to look me in the eye. How adorable! I pretended not to notice, because she pretty much had enough problems. At that moment, I felt safe. I didn't know how it was going to end. But in the midst of my humiliation and pain, for a short while, I felt complete.

_I woke up. _

Light streamed from the windows. My eyes fluttered open. Katniss was still asleep. A small smile was curved on her sweet mouth. I got up as quietly and gently as I could. I scrambled for the memory book. I took it and went to the living room to browse through it. I looked for that precise moment when she drugged me. It wasn't there. The memory book is where we've kept the wonderful things that people have done to us. It was our own form of gratitude. It just had to be there. I sketched what I half dreamed and half remembered. I drew myself in that dark, rocky cave. I drew my messed up leg. I drew the shadow of her lovely form in the light of the caves mouth, walking away defiantly, to save my life. She looks truly beautiful.

"_Hi, Peeta Bread. G'morning. Did you sleep well?"_

She began calling me that two weeks after we got married. She finally came up with a nickname for me. When Haymitch began using it , it was BEYOND embarrassing. Somehow, she makes it okay.

"_Yes Sweetie. I did. You were in it. You were so hot. I just… couldn't get my hands off you."_

I said that in my most seductive, Finnick-y voice. I could tell she was faintly blushing.

"_Not in front of the kids."_

She said that between her teeth. How I loved to embarrass her like this. I smirked as I told her that they were still asleep and I assured her we were alone. I put extra emphasis on the word "alone" as if to give a certain hint. I'm not sure if she caught on. You never really know with her, about those things. I laughed and she turned a deeper shade of red. After I caught my breath, I patted on the space on the couch next to me. She promptly sat. I showed her my newest sketch. She smiled. She leaned her head on my shoulder. She wasn't worried about me anymore.

I'm not really sure when I fell for her. In countless interviews, I've confirmed that it was that beautiful day at school when she sang. I kind of did that to sell it, you know? But in reality, you can never do that. You can never say with words, or pinpoint the exact moment when you truly fall for someone. You just end up realizing it when it's too late. I've found out that it kind of creeps up on you. I can never say when it began, the kind of unwavering devotion I'm sure I have now. But I can tell you when I was absolutely certain. It was when I tasted that suspiciously sweet flavor called Love.

Again, thank you for all that encouraging feedback. I'm considering another chapter, but I'm not so sure. So yeah, please comment. ANY suggestions are welcome. Thanks! May the odds be _ever_ in your favor!


	3. Burnt to a Crisp

Reflections of a Housewife 3: Burnt to a Crisp

**Disclaimer: **Much to my own regret and boundless sorrow, I must admit that I don't own this lovely series; Suzanne Collins does.

**Author's note: **I know. I know. I knoooow. It says in my profile that Chapter 3 was gonna be about Gale according to Peeta. Sadly, that story wasn't progressing as well as I had hoped. This story on the other hand just swam onto the page. It came so naturally, and much more quickly. Rest assured I am working on the promised story, and I'll try to publish it soon. Thanks for your patience; and I hope you enjoy this one at the meantime.

My hands were sore. Heat enveloped me. My forehead was sweaty, and welling within me was a desire for much deserved freedom. The remnants of the Seam became an outreach center, under the commission of Paylor. Medics were stationed around certain areas, at the edges of the premises, offering free health care and first aid. I was in the makeshift kitchen with Greasy Sae and other ladies, cooking food for the feeding program. We finished a heated discussion on plating arrangements and detergent brands. We resumed our activities, peeling potatoes and cooking different kinds of meat and vegetables. Greasy Sae insisted on making a special rendition of "beef" stew for the affected families. I see no problem in this, and we all oblige. I can't help but feel a little emasculated since I was the only guy in there. That made things a little awkward. The doctor says that reaching out gives us something to think about and distracts from our own problems. I'd like to think of it as a little more than that. My mind wanders.

I was in the bakery with my brothers and my father. My mother was in the shop, waiting eagerly for the customers that would never come. We have all been working very hard that day, but because of the weather and the time of year, our bread wasn't selling. You'd be surprised how seasonal orders are, and how sales often come in patterns. Our sales for bread were the lowest they have ever been. Mother was in one of her moods again. When she's like this, beatings were all too common, and reasoning with her was beyond impossible.

The sale troughs aren't the only depressing thing looming over District 12. Recently, there has been an accident. An explosion went off in the mines, killing many of the workers there. Families have been left devastated, destitute and demoralized. Pastry consumption, especially cakes were at their lowest. For many weeks, no one had

Found any cause to celebrate. The District was as dark and gloomy as the storm clouds hovering above it. I think of all the families that were affected. Then I think of her.

I've known Katniss for many years. We go to the same school, take the same classes, but I don't seem to be visible to her at all. I've been nursing a healthy crush on her all these years, and I've been trying to talk to her, but she's a complete puzzle to me. What do I say to her, anyway? "_Hey, I'm Peeta. I haven't formally met you, but despite that fact, I must tell you something. I'm in love with you-'re voice. Dear God, you're talented. I have to tell you that I've been staring at you these past few years like a demented psychopath. Have you been taking voice lessons? So anyway, what are your thoughts on… thoughts on… the weather? Do you wanna go out with me? Um, I mean to lunch? Pretty please?"_ I've been playing out these imaginary conversations in my head. I sound more and more like a hopeless dumbass, each and every time. I try to think of ways to branch out to her without saying anything. Because once I attempt to open my mouth around her, all hell breaks loose. I mean, is that even possible; to say something without using words?

I've been thinking about her more and more. Then it hit me. I haven't been seeing her at school lately. I curse myself and slap my own face for good measure. I remembered the headlines. Her father was killed in the accident. How could I be so idiotic? I remember seeing her at the market the other day, wandering aimlessly. It had been many weeks since the accident. How they've managed to survive that long without a man in their family was beyond me. Without a father, who was providing for the two girls? Well, definitely not their mother. After the explosion, I've barely seen her at all. Had Mrs. Everdeen ever leave the house ever since the accident? I doubt it. Could it be that Katniss was the one fending for her family? That couldn't be. Mrs. Everdeen isn't like that. She would never abandon her children. But then, I've seen the other widows since their husbands' departure: they've completely shut down. Was she going through the same thing?

Mother was scolding me for misshaping the bread again. She kept on complaining how the batter didn't rise enough for most of the pastries. Her voice shook with fatigue and boomed with aggression. She lectured about how customers weren't buying anything because of the lack of "presentation" and "workmanship".

When she was done and returned to the shop, I went out the back door. I needed the chilly air to think, and to revive myself from all of the crap that was going on. There she was: Katniss Everdeen.

She was the girl with a voice more mesmerizing than a choir of angels; with songs so beautiful she make mockingjays stop and listen. She was so different since I saw her last. She was now so…emaciated. Her cheeks were hollow, and there were circles under what used to be such dazzling eyes. Her clothes hung limply on her weakened body. There was grime under her fingernails. She was rummaging through our trash.

Was I hallucinating? No, she was all too real. Mother wouldn't like this. I didn't want to be the one to throw her out. I scrambled for the bakeshop. I had nothing to do with this. But was that even right for me to say? I popped a raisin loaf on the stove; the one with the roasted walnuts in it, and I was waiting for it to bake.

The stare she bore through my eyes was so strange. She looked, like she was pleading desperately. The strongest, most athletic girl of the class was…. Helpless. I never thought that description could ever be used next to her name. She always seemed so sure and so determined. Now, her life is hung on a thread. I felt like a murderer, walking away from her. I could've helped her and I was worried about getting my ass kicked by my own mom. How heroic.

As I was carefully pondering these things, I noticed how strange the air smelled. _Oh, crap. The bread was burnt to a crisp. _The crust was completely ruined, blackened and charred. I knew the inside was just fine, and I left it alone for just a minute too long. This can't be sold anymore. Mother is going to cut me to pieces. Katniss needs this, though. So I go outside, and give it to her. Who cares about what mom's gonna do, anyway?

I give it to her hurriedly, but I try to hide my expression as much as possible. I try to restrain myself from taking her up in my arms, cupping her ragged face in my hands and planting one on her. I've showed a little less restraint on the other girls in school, but it's different with her. It's definitely something I don't want to mess up. I run back inside. I peeked through the window. She was dumbfounded. She breathed in the scents of the bread, and cradled the loaf like a baby. She turned to walk away, but her expression was searching. She probably wanted to thank me.

"Peeta Mellark! Come here! I specifically called for ten raisin loaves! I'm sorry, is it so impossible for you to count?"

" But mom, I-"

"No excuses. Go finish-Wait."

She sniffed. I swear, she had an almost inhuman sense of smell.

"I'm sorry mom I-"

"You burnt one of them, didn't you?"

Everyone was silent. She pinched my earlobe with her steel fingers and dragged me up the stairs.

I was punished. My mom hated it when something was burnt. She considered it an error of exceptionally foolish neglect and stupidity. My arm was covered with bruises. She used a stick that was almost an inch thick and 12 inches long. Although she was severe, she was never malicious or cruel. I still got to eat that night, and she didn't give me any further punishment. She didn't even mention it the next day. "Peeta, you have no idea what the other people of the districts go through, and I don't appreciate it when you waste things like that. " That was the last thing she said, regarding my punishment.

I've never defied mother like that before. It seems like I was at the losing end. It seemed like I was completely selfless, and noble right? Well, to tell you the truth, it didn't feel like that at all. It felt-indescribable. I knew I could help her, and it was great to prove myself right. It felt amazing to be in that moment, sharing it with her and realizing that she could see me. I felt assured that she had at least a small glimpse of the unspoken feelings I had for her. My mom's not perfect, but my dad loves her anyway, in his own heart. He used to say that giving to the one you love was like repaying yourself a thousand times over. I found out what he meant by that.

"_Peeta?" _

Her voice made me remember where I was. I felt like I was floating off somewhere, and she was pulling me back to earth.

"_Yeah, sweetie?"_

"_You're on oven duty. Pay attention, or you might burn something again."_

"_But this is our first day here. I didn't burn anything this whole time."_

"_I know. "_

My eyes lit up, realizing what she was trying to say. Was she thinking about that too? She continued.

"_I never really got to say thank you, after all those years. I still wonder why you did that for me. Was that out of pity or-"_

I took her in my arms, and planted that kiss that I've been holding out on for so long. I pulled away, and smoothed out her hair. She opened her mouth to speak.

"_Oh. So I guess it's __**not**__ out of pity, then." _ She smiled.

"_It's okay Katniss. Consider it repayed."_

_A.N: Thank you in advance for all of your comments and suggestions. Also, let's keep it fun! Do you have any Panem Pickup Lines for me? XD _


	4. Winning

Reflections of a Housewife

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games series, nor do I own the titles or anything affiliated to it, well, except my obsession and fangirl-yness to it.

A/U: I hate the feeling of getting writer's block, but it happened anyway. It's just that the story I had in mind was very complicated. The book doesn't really give anything conclusive about Peeta's relationship with Gale. So, the writing process demanded a lot of creativity and guesswork on my part. I must admit those aren't my strong points. I hope you enjoy my attempts to capture the truly confusing emotions of love and … jealousy.

"What's in the itinerary again? Where do we go after the interviews tonight?" I asked. "Weren't you paying attention? After all this time together, you still don't memorize your itinerary? Of all those years we've spent preparing you for events…" "That's not what he was asking for, Effie." Katniss cut her off. We've both had a long day, and it was making both of us cranky. "Very well. After the interviews, you will go straight to your temporary residence at district 4." "And after going home?" Katniss asked. "You'll go to Seahaven Hospital, to visit some of the patients who have been recently rescued from the Capitol after the rebellion." "Sounds like fun." I said. "Oh, but it isn't. You must realize that this is a _solemn_ event…" Effie was at it again. She didn't even pick up a hint of my sarcasm. I was too weary to even give my full attention to her. I had to turn off my sense of hearing, and to do that I'd have to tune her out with my thoughts. So that is what I'm doing.

I've been to interviews all day. Paylor made the Katniss and I go on a goodwill tour, something to improve the districts' morale after what happened. We visited all the districts and participated in different fundraising events, hospital visits, groundbreakings, and so on. It's a little like a victory tour, but without all of the pomp and flashiness of the Capitol. It was for a good cause, but it didn't make it any less exhausting. All of the reporters kept on asking many uninteresting, and even repetitive questions. But one question caught my attention; but it wasn't even addressed to me.

"So, Ms. Everdeen. Tell us about your cousin. Do you still keep in contact with him?"

You see, even after all that time, I kept referring to Gale as Katniss's cousin, so the media just assumed things and now Mr. Hawthorne was part of the Everdeen family. Meaning no chance of romance or any of that love triangle crap that people feed on. Isn't that sweet? She answered the question shyly

"You mean Gale? Yes. Uh, he's- he's fine."

She turned red. I decided to cut this interview short. We've had enough queries anyway.

"He's having a great time working with the military. As far as we know, he's doing quite well. If you'll excuse us, we must go. Thank you for your time."

I must admit, my smile must have been really stiff, because of all of the formality that was returning to our "peppy" interviewer. She cleared her throat and gave a stony goodbye.

We returned to the residence to get ready. It was a very strange process without Portia and Cinna. It just wasn't the same. To think we'd get used to it by now. Before all of the prettifying began, Katniss came up to me.

"What was that all about?"

"What was what all about?"

She gave me a doubtful look, raising her eyebrows. "You know what I'm talking about."

"Look I'm tired, okay? Let's just get ready and leave it alone."

"You know what? Fine. You could've just told me, but you lost your chance. See you later."That was a very sad attempt at civility. It was pretty obvious that she didn't like it when I didn't tell her.

Gale Hawthorne. That guy was always a puzzle. I was taken back to the memories I had of him. I remember him lying weakly, bleeding from his deep back wounds. He was whipped by the Peacekeepers. He lay in Katniss's home, under the care of her mother. I remember seeing her face. Sheer terror was in her expression; as if the pain was her own. That was before I knew what was real. I occasionally have my resentments; how this Mr. Hawthorne never showed up to Prim's funeral, how he often averts his gaze when I ask him certain questions. I keep replaying these scenes in my head, and I'm always reassured that she really picked me. But when I looked back at when Gale was whipped, almost dying with the deep gashes on his back, I can't shake the image of Katniss's desperation.

Back then I had to ask myself what meant more to me: winning Katniss's love or … loving Katniss? I know it must seem like the same thing, but it's not. In the times of war, I've seen the power of strong ties. Many "friendships" have crumbled because of half-hearted promises and pretencious alliances. Many of our pursuits seemed so shallow in comparison. Back then, it was always about getting into relationships or being attractive. Mind you, I had absolutely no issues with the latter, but I began to question whether "winning" actually was the right thing. Would it really be considered love if I pulled her away from her dying friend? Would it be love if I fabricated feelings in her, which she never even had? Was it even my place to dictate who she cares about? I had to step back. I knew if I really loved her, I'd have to make sacrifices. I've never had trouble with that before, but maybe the notion that my feelings were probably unreturned, frightened me. But that's what love is. Letting go, even if it hurts.

Many, many days after that incident, I kept on wondering why she would even try to reach out to him. He'd been growing distant to her ever since our victory in the 74th Hunger Games, and I knew that she had noticed too. But as fate would have it, her powerful effect on people worked on me once again. She has a big heart. That was one of the many reasons why I came to love her. She never seemed to care whether or not her actions were noticed or returned. She was unselfish, loyal and strong. She knew how to love better than I did. Perhaps that was what I was completely missing out on. So I helped nurse him back to health. I assisted the Everdeens in any way I could. I was out to prove myself wrong. I knew how to love, too. It no longer mattered whether or not I would get anything out of it, as long as she was happy.

"Real." Her sweet voice still reverberates within the depths of my soul. I had no reason to be angry or resentful, I had no reason to be jealous. I just had to remember what I had promised myself: to prove myself wrong. I know with her help, that promise is not far from being achieved.

"Sweetheart?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really sorry. It's just that with that interview, that question about Gale- it brought back some stuff."

She looked at me with disappointment. "Peeta, I love you. I'm just upset that you'd think-"

"NO! It's not that. I know you love me. I just need you to know I'm not mad anymore. And…"

"And?"

"We should have a press release. We should let everyone know that Gale isn't really your cousin."

"You'd do that?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's too bad. I was just getting used to him being part of the family."

We both laughed. She was on board the whole time. Just a few more minutes till the prep team will arrive for retouches and our next trip to Seahaven. We wanted to savor every second. We sat closely, our hips touching. I put my arm around her, realizing that nothing could ever be more real.


	5. Broken But Not Destroyed

Chapter 5: "Broken, not destroyed"

Author's Note: Wow! Thanks to all those who have reviewed, listed me on alerts and FAVORITED! Oh my gosh! I'm exploding with giddiness! I would like to dedicate this entire fic to my dear friend Bethany, for all the ideas and feedback she had given me for pretty much all the chapters. I'd also like to dedicate this chapter in particular to iloveapplejuice. Thank you for your very helpful review, which gave me the idea for this chapter. But to all you, readers, this is for all of you as well! I couldn't have done this without you!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games series. It's as simple as that.

_This is it. No turning back… deep breaths_. I looked at myself in the mirror, fixed my hair or rather tugged, teased and pulled it, scruffing it up to give me a more rugged look. Where the hell is the prep team when you need them? Oh yeah. I let them leave on holiday. This was the day I planned to do it… to propose. Nothing can match this kind of suspense. In times like these, my mind plays tricks on me. Hallucinations of different scenarios played over and over in my imagination, all fabricating the worst possible situations. It was like tracker jacker venom on steroids. I pictured asking her _the _question. Then, Imagination Katniss would have different reactions: say no, slap me on the face, walk out, or laugh. Dear God, any of the others but the last. WHO in the world would want to get laughed at proposing to their girlfriend? I dismissed the prep team and other people so we could have complete privacy. I convinced Katniss that I did it just because I was feeling generous, and tired from events. We both cancelled everything for today.

I set a date. We will go hunting, and I'll ask. Simple. It's a piece of cake. it's fine. It's cool. I got this. I have GOT this. I mean, no one else would be watching, right? Damn straight! A lot of pressure off, just like that. Plus, she'd be relaxed in her own natural habitat. And, I can distract my nerves with hunting. Great!

I stared at the ring I was going to give her. Katniss doesn't really like luxury but I believe that she deserves at least this. I got her a white gold ring, set with a white, gleaming pearl at the middle, with two smaller diamonds on each side. It was something I could easily afford with the income. But again, we choose not to indulge too much on luxuries; knowing how difficult it was for others to recover in the outside world. I believe this is different, so I splurged a little bit.

I even wrote a speech. It's not in any extent any good, but I figured I could just wing it. I took comfort in the fact that I wrote it down, meaning I had something to look at when things got bad. Or you know, if it was really terrible I had something to throw into the fire or disintegrate with explosives. Here it is, all crumpled up in squiggly handwriting: "Katniss, I've known you for years. I hope you know how much I love you, and I hope more than anything that you love me too. You have no idea how much I have learned from you as a person, how to care for others, how to fight for what's right. I always stand amazed at the things that you do. You have no idea how much you affect people; how much you have affected me. All this time, I've loved you in every possible way I could, and I want to thank you for doing the same. You changed me, and you have made me into the man I am. You have taught me that being strong is not something I have to be, it's something I _can_ be. Thank you for all your patience, kindness and the sacrifices you have made. You are the most amazing and beautiful human being I have ever known. I love you so much, and I only ask for one thing. Will you… m-"

I was interrupted. She walked into the room saying: "Peeta, I have some ropes for snares, do you plan to use some too? If you will, I'll just grab some more lengths."

"Huh? Oh yeah. Will you do that for me, sweetie?" I was a little distracted because I was too busy shoving things into drawers, compartments and pockets. I had to hide the stuff. She seemed to pick up on that a little bit.

"Peeta? Are you… okay? I mean, we could just take it easy today… You seem a little jumpy."

"Nah! Nah! I'm practically glowing in the dark. I'm just peachy as a summer day!"

"Um, okay. We'll head out in fifteen minutes." She left the room.

_What in God's name did I just say? What the hell was that?_

We hunted for the rest of that afternoon and into the night we decided to just set up camp. That shot down my plans for a sort-of-formal home cooked meal after the proposal. But anyway, the hunting was great. We caught quite a few turkeys and hares. We built a fire, and we used a fallen tree as a bench. Our kill was roasting and the cool air made the scents dance and waft all around our little camp. Oh well, we might as well make do with what we had, right? The night seemed to work in my favor. The whole place was magical as the moon shined brightly across the night sky. We sighed every now and again with contentment; sure, safe and unwatched. It was such a contrast to what we have been experiencing these past couple of years. It was wonderful.

"It's so great out here. Don't you just miss it?" she said. _Yes! A conversation. Might as well work with this…_

"Yeah. I just… I can't imagine myself here with anyone else, but you,"

"Me too." _Gee, thanks. _

"I'm talking about the rest of my life. " _Okay, this was off to a rough start…_

"Me too. I dunno, with you here, with me, time just seems to stop." _Oh, God! It's working!_

"Yeah… it's all just about perfect…. I need to ask you one thing."_ I might as well get it over with_

"And what's that?"

"A favor."

"What can I do?"

" Just sit and listen to what I have to say."_ Okay, that was a little unromantic… _

I had no idea how to really start, but it was killing me. I knelt on the ground with one knee, and just well, winged it. Or not…

I basically read out of my paper. My voice was shaky, and then I tried to just close my statements.

"Katniss, will you marry—"

"Peeta, stop. Just stop."

"Oh, God. I'm moving too fast, aren't I? I'm so sorry. God! I'm an idiot. I-"

"No! I'm not saying no. It's just that, before we move on, I need to get some stuff out there. I mean, getting married, that's huge. I don't want there to be doubts in between us, nothing important left unsaid. I don't ever want you to think I just fell in love with you out of pity or because you were just there. It's more than that… I dunno it's just…"

She paused. She seemed to trail off and continued to speak, but of something else. She gathered her thoughts and resumed.

"I never doubted for a second this would happen…But you surprised me."

She tilted her head toward the seat, signaling me to sit down. She knelt with both knees on the ground, her hands wrapped nervously around each other.

"Can I say something?"

"Yeah. Of course."

"You always surprise me, Peeta. I never get how that happens. Some people have become easier and easier to predict."

I nodded my head to encourage her. She was flushed and her voice was a little shaky. I'm not really sure if it was because of her nervousness or because of emotions she was possibly holding back. She took a deep breath, sighed and continued.

"In battle or when hunting, you kind of have to get to know your target, right? I've grown so used to keeping people at a distance, observing them, discovering their weaknesses and trying to find their next move… Well with you, it wasn't so easy."

Most of the time, as she was speaking, she looked at her hands, at the floor, at the trees; anywhere but at me. But as she spoke that last sentence, she looked straight at me, searchingly. Her eyes seemed to glow with warmth of emotion. Exchanges like this were rare. We barely speak as deeply or emotionally like this to one another. It's not like we don't love one another, it's just the way we are. For me, a lot of things like this are often expressed through hugs and kisses. I'm a little touchy-feely. That's just me. For Katniss, these things also remain unsaid, but always implied. She does favors. She expresses her love through kindness. So, something like this was always cherished. When either one of us spilled our guts, we knew well enough to pay attention. Sometimes revealing personal sentiments can be an exhausting thing, so I decided to give her a leeway.

"You surprise me too Katniss. I get it…"

"Please… I have to get it all out, before we go on. Can we do that?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

I squeezed her hand, and enclosed both of her hands in mine. Funny… her hands are pretty small. She never took her hands from mine. She never let me go, and she wanted to keep it that way.

"When you were hijacked, it got me thinking. I was so scared of how much it affected me. I realized how much I had taken you for granted. It was weird. With Gale, he was hurt to the point of almost dying. When he was whipped by the Peacekeepers after we got back from the Games… I was hurt but I came to accept it. I was prepared to sever my ties with him. I was getting ready to block out the pain and dependence, eventually I found that I could."

I raised my eyebrows, my eyes widened. I was shocked. That, I couldn't believe. I thought Gale being hurt like that destroyed her. I didn't think it was something she could ever let go of. I guess she saw my doubtful look so she explained further.

"It's not like I didn't care about him, it's just that I knew I _had to_ move on. I had other things to worry about. I had my mother and Prim and they were the priority. I taught myself to keep a straight face; to be the one you couldn't break. It bothered me that Snow found a way to break me. He found the one thing he could take away the one thing that could destroy me: you."

Tears streamed down her face. I tried to hold back mine. I freed one hand from her tightening grasp. I used it to wipe away her tears.

"I'm so sorry to have abandoned you. I'm sorry that I hated you. I don't know… I turned into my worst nightmare: a monster. A monster that hurt you where you were most vulnerable." I had to apologize to her. The hijacking made me distant to her, especially in those times when she was most desperate. I knew I was there, but I was a million miles away.

"You of all people have nothing to apologize for. That was the pain I needed. I needed to realize that- that I needed you… I needed to realize that the Peeta that I love, was the one I knew, the one that was there with me in the Games and the one I'm with now."

I pushed the hair back from her face. I had to see more of her face. I wanted her to feel my touch.

"You still remember the pearl you gave me in the Quell?"

"Yeah. Of course."

"That's what gave me assurance that you would come back to me. It's a shame that I lost it. But back then, I held on to it like a wish. I still wish…again and again. So in a way, you never left me. And now… you never will."

I knew the answer to my question. But I had to hear her say it. I got ready to stand up, but she stopped me. She had more to say.

"My point is, you grew on me, Mellark. Knowing you, it has taught me to hope… more than I ever allowed myself to hope before. I love you. So to answer your question… can you please…"

"Yeah, sure." I got up out of my chair. I grasped both of her hands, and pulled her up as gently as I could. I helped her sit. I knelt on the ground. I looked too ceremonious. She chuckled and tried to hold back her laughter. I asked her my question again.

"Katniss?"

"Yes? To what can I owe this pleasure of seeing you again?"

She was grinning from ear to ear, pretending to be unaware of what was to come.

"I have a favor to ask of you"

"What's that?"

"Hold on… I have to tie my shoes."

"Are you kidding me?" She was giving me a genuine death stare.

"Just a sec… Let's see… The bunny ears… left loop over right… knot…"

"Oh my God! Peeta! Just ask me to marry you already!" She rolled her eyes.

"Just kidding…. Will you…"

I couldn't even finish the sentence. She bent over and kissed me, straight on the lips. I got up, and held her tight in an embrace.

"So… what's your answer?"

"Uh… let me think… Yes! Yes, of course!" We looked into eachother's eyes and burst into laughter. I fished for the little box in my pocket, took out the ring and slid it on her finger.

"So _that's_ where the pearl went! Where did you find it?"

"Mixed with a lot of our old stuff. Sweetheart, you_ really_ have to work on your organization skills. "

"That's what I have you for, right? Wait…Peeta! That's the wrong finger! It goes on my LEFT hand."

She laughed, and held out her hand. We corrected my clumsy little mistake. I pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She stroked my cheek and cupped my face, as I leaned in for another kiss. This night was indeed, perfect. So, that was the story of how Katniss, technically asked ME to marry her. The sketch I made in the memory book is a little embarrassing. I drew her kneeling on the ground, grasping both of my hands as I sat on the log bench. But still, that was one of the most amazing moments of my life. It's amazing to love someone. You get to know who they really are as people, you find out more and more about them. It's a little challenging; with some people, impossible. But with her, it's never a chore, but it _is_ a challenge. Maybe that's why she's so fascinating to me. She always surprises me, and that's what I need. Our love was difficult at times, with the Games and the Rebellion and all, but even if we were broken, we picked up the pieces. We refused to be destroyed.

"Peeta, what do you think? I was thinking maybe of changing the color of the border into orange for the invitation's borders."

"Yeah! That would be perfect for the ceremony. It goes with the theme."

I practically tossed the memory book into the chest where it belongs. I know the next pages are going to stay blank for quite a while. I'm not going to have a lot of down time for the next couple weeks… I have wedding to plan.

Author's note : That was long! Oh well, I hope you guys enjoyed anyway. Again, many thanks to iloveapplejuice. From now on, I'll be paying closer attention to comments, and reviews. Sooo… Thanks for reading! :D


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